


The Way Home

by forsimplicityssake



Category: Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi | Spirited Away
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Reunion, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 20:18:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6343732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forsimplicityssake/pseuds/forsimplicityssake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She didn’t know if she felt like laughing or crying, but either way, she was here now. How had this happened? An exceptionally small portion of her clung to the small threads of desire that maybe she had finally gone mad. However, as the train began to slow and a few of the figures rose to collect inky black bags, an infinitesimal pinch of relief surged through her. If she truly had gone mad, there was no place she’d rather be.</p><p>(A brief short that hit me one summer's day last year.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way Home

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for reading my first Spirited Away fic. I had written this last summer but just now decided to post to ao3. It's all inspired by a beautiful piece of art by punziella. (Click the x by the images to see the original work.) Seriously wonderful, gorgeously adorable art! I hope you enjoy it!

 ([x](http://punziella.tumblr.com/post/124194060617/i-had-a-dream-chihiro-got-on-the-wrong-train-and))

 

* * *

 

 

Chihiro moaned in frustration as the wind pulled against her, legs surging out against the sidewalk. Of all the days to oversleep, why did it have to be this one? Today was the team’s first lacrosse match with her as captain and she desperately wanted to make a good impression on the rest of the girls.  
  
It had taken so long for her to be able to come to terms with what had happened to her nearly seven years ago. To this today, she was still certain that she had crossed into the Spirit World. No amount of parental denial, therapist insistence, or personal thoughts could change what she knew for certain had happened. And yet, no amount of wishing, hoping, and running through the forest by her home could bring back the young boy with almond shaped eyes and a dragon’s heart. The river spirit, Nigihayami Kohaku Nushi was merely a memory to her now, burned too deeply into her soul that it would undoubtedly be carried with her into the next life.  
  
But time had passed and she had slowly convinced those around her—never herself—that things would be OK. She patiently worked inwardly to help create an outward appearance of normalcy; she wouldn’t let the undeniable truth keep her from having a life.  
  
Chihiro shook her head rather violently hoping to dislodge the current stream of thought as her eyes sought the train station still a mile out on the coastline. Her grip tightened on the lacrosse stick and she pumped her arms faster, willing herself to all but fly.  
  
The warm morning sun glittered off the water briefly striking her dumb with a sensation of cool scales and wind in her face. No, not today.  
  
As she continued her sprint, her gaze caught a small, aging sign, the wood beginning to split almost cutting the arrow in half. She squinted as the sign came closer.  
  
_⬅ Train Path, This Way_  
  
A shortcut? She’d never seen this before, but she was usually so lost in her own thoughts when she was hiking down from her house to the station, there was a very good chance that she’d just never paid it any attention. It was easy to miss.  
  
The sign pointed down a dirt path that wound through wildflowers to a thick covering of trees where, inevitably, it popped out on the other side. It cut an almost straight line from the road she was presently on to the station below, nearly slicing the time it would take, should she choose to continue on her current route, in half.  
  
But if she was wrong…? She didn’t have time to think like that. Skidding to a halt, she pivoted wildly and took off past the sign, her knees almost buckling under the sudden change in grade and terrain. Her eyes were so focused on watching the rocks in the path that she didn’t notice the small, white creature with large, black eyes following her movements. The kodama tilted its head back and forth in rapid succession before slowly disappearing into the road.  
  
The shrill sound of a train whistle nearly caused Chihiro to misstep and go rolling down the path. Her eyes snapped up and she saw steam billowing from the top of an oncoming train, maybe five minutes out. Its long body snaked along the tracks and Chihiro wailed.  
  
Her path evened out slightly and the bright warmth of the sun slowly dappled as she entered the cluster of trees. Good. Hopefully, she was almost there; Coach would kill her if she was late to their first match.  
  
Birds chirped and sang around her, their songs sweet and light. Chihiro allowed herself a short moment to take in the glow of the sunlight, the trees’ leafy branches swaying ever so slightly in the gentle breeze. It reminded her of the time her father decided to take a shortcut to their new home and they had—  
  
Nope. Stop thinking.  
  
She could see an opening in the trees ahead, and though her legs felt like they were on fire, she pushed on. Seconds later, she popped out back into the sunlight, her hand coming up to shield her eyes from the harsh change. She slowed to a jog, allowing her pupils to constrict and become accustomed to the bright light.  
  
When they did, she could see that the shortcut had been a marvelous idea. Before her was the old train station, its orange tiled roof contrasting harshly with the yellow walls. She briefly remembered when the city workers had announced that they planned to repaint the station and a large portion of the neighborhood was grossly alarmed when they learned what color had been chosen. They tried to delay the repainting, but the city ignored them. Chihiro was sure they had secretly picked an even more outlandish shade of yellow to spite the bitter townsfolk.  
  
The train she was here to catch whistled loudly and Chihiro turned to see it pulling into the station; she made it just in time.  
  
Reaching into her jacket pocket, Chihiro fished out her train ticket and made her way to the platform. The normal old, stooped-backed man that took the tickets wasn’t there. Instead, a sign hung on one of the columns that read, “Please hand tickets to conductor onboard.” Odd.  
  
She shrugged, not caring either way, and waited for the train to fully pull in and stop, the doors creaking open once it had. She was alone on the platform, another slight oddity, but Chihiro was so grateful to have made it, she waltzed onto the train unperturbed. The minute she sat down, her head felt heavy. The cabin was full of a thick, sweet smell that reminded her of overripe fruit in the summer. She was suddenly so tired from her sprint to the station that she immediately propped her head on one hand and sat her lacrosse stick across her lap. Her train ticket lay forgotten by her hip and within seconds, Chihiro was asleep.  
  
Unbeknownst to her, a slowly moving, large man in a blue uniform approached her. A dark, shadowy hand reached out and plucked her ticket from the seat. He brought it to a murky looking face, and though no features were present, appeared to scrutinize the small piece of paper. With what could be considered a shrug, he placed it in a small, hand-cranked shredder that hung from his shoulders. A quick flick of his shadowy wrist pulled the ticket through the miniature shredder, tiny scraps fluttering out the other side.  
  
He briefly stood facing the girl before turning at an excruciatingly slow pace and continuing on down the train.  
  
Chihiro’s body rocked back and forth as the train began to pick up speed, a high pitched whistle announcing its departure. As the landscapes outside began to blur becoming a swirling mass of blues, golds and greens, something odd began to happen.  
  
Next to Chihiro, a shadow formed. It wasn’t hers, but that of larger figure, seemingly male, a hat perched atop his head. He leaned forward, forearms on knees, before tilting his dark, feature-less head in the direction of Chihiro. He then turned away, his body still slouched forward as others, very similar to him, began to materialize sluggishly, like the way your eyes blearily open after a long, peaceful sleep.  
  
A woman sat further down from Chihiro, a child clutched to her side. Opposite her was another woman, an inky black shawl draped around her head and shoulders. In a matter of ten minutes or so, the train, once empty sans a lone girl, was filled with shadow spirits of all shapes and sizes, their only common trait being their humanesque appearance.  
  
The train car was so warm and comfortable, a subconscious part of Chihiro felt as if she could stay forever, wrapped in what felt like a heavy blanket. This place felt so peaceful to her, almost like a distant memory that popped up now and again. It was comforting in its familiarity, yet a hint of uneasiness lingered as if something, or someone, was watching her.  
  
Her head bobbed to and fro with the motion of the train, a large, sweeping turn in the tracks shifting her shoulders and suddenly, she was off balance, snapping awake.  
  
With a start, she reached out a hand to brace against the bench. For a brief second she wasn’t sure where she was. Her eyes looked at long fingers spread out next to her thigh and her attention was drawn to the empty space there. Didn’t her ticket fall? She remembered getting on the train, but she had been so tired that she immediately fell asleep. Oh no, did the conductor get her ticket? Was she going to be forced off at the first stop?  
  
Eyes widening, Chihiro’s head rose and she made to stand and find the conductor. The next few seconds either passed so quickly that she couldn’t register them, or they were drawn out so slowly that her brain disregarded them. Either way, the sight before her stopped her heart, her lungs fluttering like the wings of a terrified bird as they tried to pull any air they could inward.  
  
Her legs wobbled and quickly gave out sending Chihiro crashing back into her seat. All around her were the dark shadow figures of her dreams. Well, more or less her memories. In fact, the train hadn’t even changed. If she didn’t know better, she would guess she was back on the same train from when—  
  
But there was no way that was possible. Maybe she fell on her way to the station and hit her head? That definitely made more sense. Or perhaps she was still dreaming and this entire day was just a foreshadowing of what would happen if she didn’t get up on time.  
  
_I’m dreaming, I’m dreaming._  
  
Those two words, repeated thusly, sent a pain through her head that was more terrible then the time she was hit by another lacrosse player a last week’s practice.  
  
She had whimpered out those same words seven years ago. And that was when she—but, no. There was no possible way this was happening.  
  
She pinched her thigh painfully, a red mark forming on her pale skin. Looking around, the figures were still there; empty faces seeming to stare off in all directions. The long stretches of neighborhoods in the hills overhead were gone, replaced instead with a never-ending view of water as if the train was sailing straight through the ocean.  
  
Occasionally a house on a lone island sprang up, quickly skirting out of sight as the train passed on. All too soon, realization dawned on her and, all the suffering, hope, joy, and sadness that had grown and festered within her very soul sprang forward. She didn’t know if she felt like laughing or crying, but either way, she was here now. How had this happened? An exceptionally small portion of her clung to the small threads of desire that maybe she had finally gone mad.  
  
However, as the train began to slow and a few of the figures rose to collect inky black bags, an infinitesimal pinch of relief surged through her. If she truly had gone mad, there was no place she’d rather be.  
  
The sun was setting now, casting long golden rays atop the blue water. The train hissed as it stopped before a small platform that seemed to have risen from nowhere. The figures moved at a glacial pace, filing to the opening doors.  
  
She didn’t know what to do.  
  
That was a lie.  
  
She did know what to do, but she wasn’t sure her heart could take it if she was wrong. A small shadow spirit paused momentarily before her, its mother continuing on. It looked at her, or so she imagined, and for a brief second, a sensation that they had locked gazes passed through her sending the hairs on the back of her neck rising. Like a jellyfish gliding through open waters, the small figure left. It was only a matter of moments before the doors would close and the train would move on.  
  
She knew if she stayed on the train, the last and only stop she was acquainted with would be Swamp Bottom. Did she want to keep going?  
  
Turning her head to glace beyond her shoulder, she could make out the tall tower next to the Bath House. There was no way to express the overwhelming emotions that were coursing through her like a tidal wave. There was a slight motion in the train and Chihiro turned to see the doors begin to close.  
  
It was now or never.  
  
And then she caught a glimpse of him and it was all she needed to grab her book bag, lacrosse stick, and lunge forward.  
  
Barely making it through the closing doors, Chihiro gasped loudly, doubling over to place her hands on her knees, her belongings clattering to the platform below.  
  
A shadow, this time belonging to something solid, crept into her line of vision.  
  
She first saw smooth pale feet clad in open sandals. Her eyes shifted up before her neck followed suit. White linen cinched at a pair of ankles, the lose fabric billowing in the afternoon breeze. A dark blue sash tied around narrow hips, keeping a clean white tunic in place. Hands were at either side, a small twitch in long, beautiful fingers telling her that he realized it too.  
  
As she righted herself and continued her visual pathway, she noted that his hair was so long now, brushing his hips at it swayed. A simple ribbon kept most of it away from his face. His face... As if today hadn’t been taxing enough, just the mere sight of him almost caused her to have a near fatal heart attack.  
  
He’d been a beautiful child, she knew that. In fact, her ten-year-old self wouldn’t be caught dead thinking it, but she felt she was always drawn to him, at least partially, on a physical level—or what could be considered such at a young age.  
  
Now, he had grown. His cheekbones took up prime real estate on his face casting sumptuous shadows. His lips were thin and parted, his breath coming in short gasps as she noticed the movement in his chest. His heart must have been beating as fast as hers. A long and straight nose sat between two symmetrical halves of porcelain skin.  
  
More than anything, she wanted to see his eyes and was so incredibly far from disappointed when she did. The held the same shape, though their gaze was more piercing, befitting a boy—no, man—of his status. Bangs flitted over a pair of aristocratic eye brows, their shapes drawn upward in surprise.  
  
Like a pair of two roughly cut emeralds, his eyes sought hers, a soul-pulling tug reflected in her gaze. A ray of light hit the corner of his face and if she wasn’t mistaken, those were tears forming.  
  
The breeze kissed her face bringing her attention to the cool lines on her cheeks. Apparently she was crying too.  
  
The rest of the Spirit World melted away as they stood, face-to-face, in what Chihiro figured was either the most beautiful moment of her life, or the most cruel dream she’d ever had.  
  
When he licked his lips quickly and opened his mouth, it didn’t matter anymore. None of it mattered anymore.  
  
“Chihiro.”


End file.
